Bloody Hell
by Girl Called Mozart
Summary: [Chapter 2 finally up!] Janet finds herself unwilling trapped in an episode of Blue's Clues. What does Blue want to eat for breakfast? Janet doesn't care, she just wants to call a tow truck.
1. I'm Confused

[Quick Note: I am not Janet Hapsfield. I apologize to anyone who is.]  
  
= Bloody Hell =  
  
Chapter 1 - I'm Confused  
  
My car had broken down about a mile and half down the road and I was trying to find a gas station or something along those lines. At that point, I was mentally smacking myself for not buying that cell phone when I had the chance. Leave it to me to spend my money on that antique hourglass I saw in the Pottery Barn catalogue.  
  
But getting back to situation at hand, it was raining like hell and all I was wearing was a System of a Down t-shirt and a pair of flare pants from Old Navy. I never said I wasn't a hypocrite, okay? As I reached the peak of a hill, the dark image of a small house appeared through the rain. Before I could even think of who might be living there, my fist was banging against the door.  
  
It opened, and a young man answered. He was dressed in a green-striped collared shirt and khaki pants. His dark brown hair was neatly combed and his eyes were wide and bright.  
  
He looked like a ridiculous fruit. But then again, he was dry and I was soaked to the freaking bone. I'll bet he even had a perfectly good cell phone, too. "Hello," he said cheerfully. "What can I help you with?" At first, I passed his words off as normal.  
  
"I don't suppose I could use your phone to call a tow truck?" I asked, shivering. "My car gave out two miles back." Jesus H. Christ, was he going to invite me in or not? He grinned and opened the door the rest of the way.  
  
"Well," he replied. "I have a phone. So come on in! What's your name?" I cautiously stepped inside and he shut the door behind me. At once, I could tell something was not right. There was hardly any furniture and the walls were painted a psychotic sort of yellow. An enormous red chair sat against the far wall.  
  
I gulped in spite of myself. This scenario was most likely the start of an episode of Unsolved Mysteries; either that, or a pornographic independent film. I couldn't tell which, yet. "Janet Hapsfield," I introduced, too cold to extend my hand.  
  
"Steve Burns," he said. "My phone's in the living room. Follow me."  
  
So I did. I know, it was stupid of me to even give the man my real name. As I trailed behind him, something very odd happened. The house seemed to...stretch...out in front of us. If one were to look at the building from outside, it would look quite tiny. However, from the inside, it was much larger. In fact, taking a quick glance over my shoulder, it appeared that the entire house was set up in a straight line.  
  
Steve handed the phone to me and I dialed the operator to get a number for a towing service. It was only after I put the phone up to my ear that I realized the phone had no dial tone. I grimaced and hung up. "Your phone line's been knocked out because of the storm," I told him.  
  
"Oh," said Steve. "Would you like to spend the night?" I was disturbed by the promptness of his question, more than the content of it. When I didn't answer right away, he added, "You could sleep in my room."  
  
I put up my hands in defense. "That's quite all right, Mr. Burns. I should be leaving, actually," I argued. "I'm sure there's a gas station close by with a working phone, or at least someone with a cell..." But the man wouldn't have it. He took hold of my waterlogged shoulder and directed me past the living room and through a door.  
  
"This is my room," he explained. "Feel free to find a pair of pajamas that fit you. And, in the morning, you can call again and get a truck to help you with your car." It was a very bad idea. Sleeping in a strange person's bed was the last thing I wanted at that moment. The mattress was rather tempting, though...  
  
Steve left and returned hastily with a towel in hand. He gave it to me, saying, "Here; dry your hair a bit." I did so. He grinned pleasantly and shut me in the room. I pulled my shirt over my head and let it lay on the floor on top of the towel. My pants, being wet, were a struggle to remove, but I finally tossed them alongside the shirt.  
  
My bra and underwear came next, and then I noticed a walk-in closet to my right. Opening it, I began to search through the drawers before finally stumbling across a pant-shirt pajama outfit with sailboats. It didn't even occur to me to think of why a grown man would own sailboat print pajamas. I sat down on the side of the bed and grumbled.  
  
It felt a little funny not wearing any underwear, but I didn't want to get Steve's bed wet, much less his clothes. My eyes wandered over to the clock on the nightstand to see what time it was. 10:43 pm. The clock smiled at me and I smiled back. Perhaps spending the night at a stranger's house wouldn't be so bad af--  
  
The clock...smiled at me...?!  
  
I jumped up with a yelp. "Hi," greeted the clock. "Are you one of Steve's friends?" I distinctly remembered not smoking anything prior to the encounter with the timepiece. Now I almost wished I had.  
  
"How can you talk?" I asked, completely dumbfounded. Not only was this situation entirely illogical, it was just stupid. In fact, it started being illogical the second I walked through the front door. The clock wobbled from side to side.  
  
"Can't all clocks talk?" it questioned. I slapped my forehead with a groan. Obviously, being upset and flustered was not going to help, so I took a deep breath and decided to go with it. "I'm Tickety-Tock," the clock continued. "Who are you?"  
  
"Janet," I said. "It's a pleasure."  
  
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A/N: Okay, I realize this is disturbing. It's not meant to be serious, I swear! I swear! In any case, please review. If I receive over 5 reviews, I'll post another chapter. Mwahaha. 


	2. My First Clue

[Quick Note: It's easier to understand the French accent if you read it aloud with one.]

  


= Bloody Hell =

Chapter 2 – My First Clue

  


The morning sun crept through the blinds and lit up the small bedroom. I stirred gently, not realizing where I was. At the time, I didn't care. The sheets, soft and warm around my body, enveloped me like some sort of fabric cocoon. My eyes tiredly fluttered open. That clock was sitting on the nightstand by the bed, staring at me with an large grin.

"Are you up? Are you up?"

"Yes," I said.

"Oh good!" it cried. What was its name again? Tick-Tock? Tickety-Tock. It continued to speak. "You should go to the kitchen! I'm sure Steve will get you some breakfast!"

I had momentarily forgotten about Steve. There was something very…very strange about him. And about this place. I left the bedroom and walked through the living room into the kitchen. Steve stood at the stove, his back facing me. Some salt and pepper shakers were on the table. Childish drawings were posted up on the fridge. The linoleum floor was checkered white and black, and the walls were still yellow. I took a quick seat at the table.

Steve noticed me as I sat down. "Good morning, Janet! I trust you slept well."

"Unusually well."

He laughed. "I'm making scrambled eggs," he said. "Would you like some?"

"Sure," I replied. To my surprise, Steve wasn't a half-bad cook. The eggs on my plate looked deliciously fluffy. "Thank you."

"You're welcome!"

I noticed my eggs had no seasoning, so I reached over to pick up the salt and pepper shakers. They didn't like that. I guess I woke them up or something, because they started to squirm in my hands. I put them down.

"Now, now!" said the salt. "What iz thees? Who are yoo?"

"Janet Hapsfield."

"It waaz not nize of yoo to juss pick us up wissout asking us fairst."

"I'm terribly sorry," I said to the salt. "I'm new here. Shakers don't talk where I come from." Especially with terrible French accents.

"It iz no problem, Miz Hapsfeeld. I am Mr. Salt, and thees iz mai waife, Mrs. Peppair." Mr. Salt and Mrs. Pepper. How disgustingly cute. After a short talk, they were kind enough to season up my scrambled eggs, which I ate hastily. The faster I got out of there, the faster I could get someone to tow my car and get me back home.

Fate, on the other hand, had other plans.

I was barely finished with my breakfast when Steve suddenly shouted, "Blue! Where are you?" A small, floppy blue dog came bounding into the kitchen. It leapt up on a chair. "There you are, girl," said Steve. "Blue, do you want me to make you some eggs?"

Blue shook her head.

"Some waffles?"

Again, she declined. Steve folded his arms across his chest. "Well then, what DO you want?"

The dog danced in a circle and barked out a little song, "Bow-bow-bow, bow-bow BOW!" She slammed her massive puppy paw onto the table, leaving a bright blue pawprint. I sat there, completely confused as to what was going on. Steve, however, jumped into action.

"I get it!" he said, looking me right in the face. "We'll play Blue's Clues to find out what Blue wants to have for breakfast!" And then he proceeded to sing a song so demented that I refuse to dedicate another sentence to it. He grabbed me playfully by the arm and dragged me into the living room.

"Hey!" I yelped. "What in the bloody hell is going on here?"

Steve let go, looking hurt. "You said a naughty word."

"I what?" "You said a naughty word," he repeated. His eyeballs glistened over with salt water. Was he about to cry?!

"I take it back!" I said. "I take it back, just please don't start crying."

Steve grinned and all was forgiven. He opened up a drawer by the giant armchair and pulled out a chunky little notebook with green paper and a picture of the armchair on the front. Inside of the spiral on top was a thick green crayon.

"So… what's this for?" I asked.

"It's our notebook," he said. "We'll need to keep track of all the clues we find in order to figure out what Blue wants for breakfast. Will you help me?"

I let my breath go with a sharp exhale. Well, it wasn't as if I had anything better to do…

"All right."

"You will?" he said. "Okay! Now remember, we need to keep a lookout for the blue pawprints. Those are clues – Blue's Clues. C'mon, let's go!"

I followed him back into the kitchen. Steve slowed to a halt and surveyed the room. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. What was he looking for? Then I saw it – a blue pawprint on a loaf of bread. Did Steve see it? It was, like… right in front of him on the counter.

"There's a clue," I said.

"My shoe?" Steve asked, glancing down at his sneakers. "No, they're tied. Thanks for your concern, though."

Did I stutter? I was pretty sure I properly pronounced the world 'clue'. How could anyone mistake 'clue' for 'shoe', especially when we were looking for clues? Shoes had nothing to do with this!

"A clue," I said slower.

"A clue? Where?"

I pointed to the bread. "Right there." Steve approached the counter.

"Where?"

"On the bread," I told him.

"Oh my head?" he asked, patting his unruly brown hair. "There's no clue up there."

"The clue is on the bread, Steve!" I shouted between clenched teeth. He suddenly gasped as he saw the loaf of bread with the pawprint sitting right there in the middle of the stupid kitchen. Maybe he was born with some sort of metal deficiency…?

Steve picked up the bread and examined it. "It's a clue all right. Do you know what we need?"

"Um… that notebook?"

"Our notebook! Right!"

Steve sat down at the table and pulled out the crayon. He flipped to a blank green sheet of paper and started to draw the bread. "Let's see… There's a straight line, and some little curves, and a couple more lines… And there's our bread!" He appeared rather fond of his drawing. "So, what could Blue want for breakfast that has bread in it?"

"French Toast?" I offered. Steve pocketed the notebook.

"I think we need to find some more clues."

From outside the open back door, there came two high-pitched voices.

"Steve!"

"Steve!"

"We need your help with something!"

"Yeah, we need your help!"

Steve turned to me. "That sounds like Shovel and Pail," he said. "Should we go and see what they want?"

There was no use trying to get out of this now. "Okay."

  


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A/N: Woah, it's been a while since I did anything with this. A big 'thanks' goes out to everyone who has reviewed and bugged me for another chapter!


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